The Tale of the Sun Priest and the Merchant's Daughter
by Spacer Paste
Summary: Of all the people she's met & wonders she's seen being accepted into the royal court of the Sun King wasn't something she expected or imagined. Yet here she is wearing fine silk & dining with the handsome king. She's not naive enough to think this happens every day, but there's a Vanguard soldier who watches her. While in the village below a shopgirl dreams of a better life.
1. The Tale of the Sun Priest Chapter 1

TITLE: The Sun Priest and the Merchant's Daughter

Chapter: 1, Sun and Shadow

* * *

"For nothing is hidden that will not become evident, nor anything secret that will not be known and come to light." Luke 8:17

* * *

"I'm not trying to poison you, Aloy. Just one taste. Trust me."

Warm fingers on her chin drew a blush from her cheeks, branding her with a heat that stole her breath. The voice, filled with humor and the promise of acceptance, set her heart pounding. Aloy swallowed hard. This was outside the limits of her experience. To escape the strange sensations, she backed herself against the intricately carved iron railing. Eyes wide and nowhere to run she resembled a trapped rabbit. Except, there's not a rabbit in Meridian with a wild mane of red hair and disarming green eyes that hold no hint of fear. Silhouetted against the stars, with a hundred candles flickering in her eyes the young woman is unaware of her natural beauty or how the full desert moon sent the tones of her sun-streaked hair into a cool fire of muted color. No, this rabbit would hold her ground and never yield.

The man responsible is her dinner companion Erend. A man of the world and Vanguard soldier in service to the Sun King. As head of the King's Vanguard Erend and his sister have King Avad's ear and move in the inner circles of court. There are many women at court. Many of the beautiful and most of them willing. Tonight he sees nothing but the spirited woman-child before him. He's pushing her, and he knows it, but the evening is warm and scented. The food and good wine put him in a mood. For the first time in weeks, the pain and guilt of losing his sister didn't weigh him down.

With her back against the railing, Aloy cannot escape the man smiling at her or the exotic food he offered from a spoon. She's never seen a spoon or a utensil more sophisticated than the trencher and knife her people use. That's easy enough to hide. It's his golden eyes and the warmth saturating the cool silk of her clothes to warm her skin. For the first time in her life, Aloy ignored her instincts and resisted the urge to pull away. Erend tipped the contents of a small golden spoon into her mouth.

With eyes closed, her full lips begged for a kiss while she savored the taste. Fortunately for him, Aloy, who could seriously hurt him if she were aware of her affect on him, kept her eyes closed while he silently appreciated the feminine beauty and strength. She wasn't accustomed to this kind of attention from men, but her naivete contrasted with the instincts of a warrior was not something he can ignore. She is more skilled and braver than any five of his Vanguard soldiers.

When Aloy arrived dressed in what Erend imagined was her best armor, weapons hanging on her back and her flaming hair in its usual state. Erend and the King greeted her respectfully and handed her a cup of wine. A few minutes later they pretended not to notice when two serving women gently led her away. The Aloy who returned wore silk robes of ivory and black. Around her head lay a headpiece of turquoise stones. The women wove a few strands of hair into the headpiece, the bulk of her hair hung clean, straight and orderly down her back. Gone were the braids and beads. Erend imagined how Aloy probably fought for those braids.

Wild and free with smudged cheeks or stately and robed like a princess? Beautiful either way, but as he watched her enter the terrace, Erend realized he wasn't sure. The shapely curves normally hiding under layers of leather, were evident under the silk robes called to him. Erend tossed back the remainder of his wine. A month ago, he would have bragged to anyone who would listen that __she__ wasn't good enough for him. A tasty morsel yes, but not polished enough for the court of the Sun King. Naivete held the interest of a man of his tastes only until the maid surrendered.

Drunk and boasting in front of his drinking companions his bravado sounded witty and clever. Tonight as he watched her slowly open her eyes he knew something had changed. Hidden under layers of drink and soldier's bravado, beneath the facade of a courtier his arrogant outbursts had more to do with grief, than anything he might do to this jewel.

 _ _Don't kid yourself. You knew it the morning you lay on the ground like a wounded pig and watched helplessly while she took down Dervahl and those six Glinthawks.__

A pair of clear green eyes wide and innocent with unasked questions stared into his face. Erend knew the answers, just as he also knew it was _he_ was not good enough for her.

And hadn't Avad had expressed interest in Aloy from the start?

Reluctantly, Erend released her. Handsome and young, the sun king could give her all that she desired. Care for her, spoil her and never burden her with too many births. With Avad she could be the queen of Meridian. With him, she would be just one of the hundreds of other soldier's wives who lived below in the village. Waiting for the men to return while they made a few shards by watching each other's children or hawking wares from a small shop. With children dragging at her heels, she would quickly lose the vibrancy of youth. He couldn't do that to her. He might as well blow out a candle or smother a campfire with sand the effect would be the same. Erend swallowed his pride and forced his hand away from her face.

"Did you like it?"

Instead of pulling away, Aloy caught the hand that held her chin. The spoon clattered forgotten to the worn stone, bounced once and fell off the edge. Once, twice she swept her trigger finger over his knuckles. Her breath quickened, and he knew it because she was close enough that he felt the gentle puffs of air on his cheek.

"I've never tasted anything like it. How do you keep the ice...?"

That the strawberry ice pleased her was all that mattered. Erend never heard the question over the pounding of his heart.

~o0o~

From the glow of a single candle, Darcia carefully counted the shards from the day's sales and swept them from the scared table into a leather bag. The leather bag went around her neck, hidden by the scarf she wore over her hair and shoulders. She wrinkled her nose at the smelled of cabbage, offal, and slaughtered animals. The familiar smells of Meridian Village never changed, it's just that she never got used to it. Never intended to get used to it.

Her mother always told her she had a mind like a machine. She was never sure if that was a compliment. Her mother, an embittered women made old before her time, never complimented her. So it probably wasn't. A few things she knew for sure. She was clever with figures, which was a good thing because her father drank most of the income from their little shop. Based on the way men followed her with their eyes and whistled she knew she was passing pretty and there was a better life for her somewhere outside the bridges and gates of the reeking furnace that was Meridian.

Three years ago, at the age a girl most needed a mother to guide her path into womanhood, her mother had thrown herself from one of the bridges. On her own at fourteen, she learned to escape the grasping hands of the guards and merchants. To keep herself clean and decently clothed. Over time she managed to keep enough by to make sure her father didn't starve. Each day began, much the way it ended with a heel of bread in one hand and a stone cup of thin beer in the other.

Instead of gossiping with the other merchants around the fire pits, she decided to head to the edge of the village. From here she could see the stars, catch a breath of fresh air and watch the golden lights of the Sun Palace. What were they doing up there, she wondered? Her young heart dreamed of them swaying to the music and the soft fabric of their fine clothes rustling with movement. Their language friendly and their conversations full of humor and interesting topics. The food wholesome and fresh.

She'd heard of a thing they called ices. Fruit mixed with ice and sugar those nobles could enjoy any time of year. She wondered at the lives of those who lived so high above her small world. Each day she watched noble men and women walk quickly through the shops. If she were a noblewoman, Darcia would send one of her maids down to the village. She longed to ask them about their clothes or their hair, but she never dared. Someday, she scolded herself for wishing for what she couldn't have. Someday. Just not today.

Once when she fled one her father's drunken rages, she'd found a staircase. On and on she ran until she reached the until she found herself deep inside the walls of Meridian. Shadowed and cool the room was filled straw and barrels of snow. This was snow? This was where they stored the ice. Hidden in the cellars, where the sandstone stayed cool, workers brought snow and kept it from melting. A magical place she returned to again and again when life became too much for the child. A place where she could forget the bruises on her cheek and the tears tracking paths through the dirt on her cheeks. Leaning a little further against the railing she caught a glimpse of movement against the edge of a platform.

Years ago, she remembered when she and a group of children sneaked into the Royal Maizelands. Trying and failing at being quiet they crawled through the high stalks of corn. After a great deal of giggling and arguing about being lost, they burst into a garden area hidden from animals and protected from the sun. Bright colored berries of red and blue, flowing water, birds, and flowers so beautiful and fragrant, the children stood spellbound. They hadn't worked up their courage to drink the water or taste the berries before they heard footsteps and the rattling sound of a guard uniform.

They ran.

Two of the boys got caught, but she didn't. She was fast and with her dark hair could make herself invisible. She never went back to that garden, but she never forgot the scents and the bounty of colors. It's exactly the way she imagined they lived in the Sun Palace. _Someday. Just not today._ A hand on her shoulder intruded on her fantasies.

"Darcia, you shouldn't be out so late. Go home, child." The old blacksmith smiled kindly.

He was right, of course. She should go home to the filthy room she shared with her father and the coarse straw mat she wove herself. By now, he's drank himself into a stupor. She has nothing to fear from him. Until morning, that is. When he woke, shouting for beer and more often than not vomiting through his curses.

The blacksmith handed her a few slices of pork sausage wrapped in a cotton rag.

"Child you might find some peace at the Sun Temple."

"There's nothing there for me," she replied with a shake of her dark head. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. She wanted to ask him what standing in the sun listening to old men chant could possibly do to change anything about her life. The chanting wouldn't stop her father from drinking or bring her mother back. The sun was just the sun. Its heat baked the earth until no plow could break or turn the soil. Smothered the corn with heat until they finally wilted and gave up.

Darcia waved good night to the blacksmith and turned for home. The sausage she hid carefully in her scarf. As she walked, her fingers closed around the tiny spoon in her pocket. She found it earlier lying in the dirt. It was beautiful with intricate carving and inlaid stones. Darcia smiled beneath the rough cotton of her scarf. It wasn't much, but it was a start.


	2. The Tale of the Sun Priest Chapter 2

TITLE: The Tale of the Sun Priest and the Merchant's Daughter

CHAPTER: 2, By Candlelight

Warning: Talk of rape and the violence associated with it.

AN: Thanks and virtual hugs to those of you who reviewed/followed this story. BTW, I purchased a PS4 just to play this game, too. Worth every penny! So, you know where I got the idea for this story? Several NPCs comment they like the Tale of the Sun Priest and the Merchant's Daughter better. Better than what I do not know. Thank you for stopping by.

* * *

"When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow." ―Ursula K. Le Guin

* * *

The King and curious eyes forgotten, Erend grasped Aloy's fingers.

"You let me know when I go over my two minutes," Erend murmured, deciding to take a risk by tickling her with his mustache. She hadn't reached for her bow, and that was a good sign. He wasn't kidding himself to imagine she didn't have a weapon hidden under those fancy robes. Instead of a weapon, Aloy rewarded him with a shiver. Erend grinned over her hand.

This wasn't a fair fight.

Then Erend swallowed hard because the truth was he didn't have to court girls. Girls available for certain needs were not difficult to locate in Meridian. When a man's needs required attention then the house of prostitution located deep inside the Village Market was available for a fee. He tended to stay away from village girls. They were more of a challenge because they looked at him as a way out of their narrow lives. Well, he wasn't the marrying kind. Never had been. Never would be. Not old Erend. But, this girl. This courageous beauty staring up at him with a hundred questions in her eyes took his soldiers courage and bravado and tossed it over the edge of a cliff.

Rost taught her many things. Taught her how to survive, hunt and defend herself. She learned courage by watching him persevere. Learned to stand alone because that's what he did and he never let her see his own grief at the way his life turned out. But, this? The warmth of a man's body so close to hers. They way her muscles felt heavy, and her heart thudded a slow beat. Had Rost skipped this lesson? Because she really needed to find out just what was expected of her. Gray areas were not her style, and King Avad and Erend were gray areas. The hand touching hers is calloused and work-worn. She likes the feel of his rough soldier's hands brushing over her callouses. His touch makes her feel less self-conscious about her outlander manners and worn hands. They way he looks at her makes here forget that she's nothing more than a savage.

A few weeks ago, just before the weather turned cool, Aloy realized that she enjoyed watching his hands. Around a campfire she watched him tell a story to his soldiers, his animated fingers told the story of his heart clearer than any words. His obvious worry over the fate of his sister told her this was a man who loved and loved in return. The small lines around his eyes let her know this was a man who enjoyed laughing. His lack of arrogance and the way he devalued his skills endearing traits.

Once, on the windswept plain with a herd of striders chasing them, he grabbed her arm to assist her in climbing a ledge. She could have easily done it herself, but the firm grip of his hand and the smile that lit up his smudged cheeks pleased her. The striders were easy prey, made complicated when a group of long legs and a sawtooth showed up. Erend lost one of his men to a long leg and they'd almost died in that ravine. Their relief at outmaneuvering the sawtooth had Aloy leaning against Erend's arm to keep him from releasing her.

Erend had looked down at her hand and slowly lifted it from his forearm. Their natural laughter quieted as the shared anxiety drained away. The moment drew out until he cleared his throat and made a show of retrieving their weapons.

Unsure of her action or what to say, she finally blurted, "I-I should apologize. I should not have touched you without your permission."

"No, Aloy. No." he said dropping their weapons on the ground and rounding on her. "No one's at fault."

What could he say to her? That he was scared out of his wits for her safety? That losing his sister broke his heart, but losing Aloy might push him over the edge of a Sun Palace balcony?

Unsettled and confused, Aloy glanced at the skyline. "Then we should be getting back to camp. There's a storm coming from the East."

"Yeah," he nodded with relief and shouldered their weapons. "Let's get out of here and head back. Aloy? We can talk more about this later if you wish. We're friends right?"

They walked back to camp in silence each lost in their thoughts.

Rabbit stew was dished out and the meal spent in sharing their hunting exploits of the day. Aloy found their easy comradery both strange and delightful. She found herself relaxing in a way she never had before and laughing aloud at their stories and teasing.

Later, after the others found their bedrolls, Aloy joined Erend at the edge of the firelight.

"I think I understand now. I shouldn't have touched you because I don't know much, anything really, about... friendship or what goes on between men and..."

As usual, Aloy went straight to the heart of the matter causing Erend's gut to clench and his cheeks to burn.

"Stop. You grew up alone. I get it, and I bet old Rost wasn't much for affection." Watching her eyes fill with tears tore at his heart. He suddenly wished he were drunk. Very drunk. Because what he was about to do would..."Dammit, Aloy. Come here."

Erend set his mug on the ground and stood. "Aloy, I was frightened for you. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. But all I could see was you trampled to death by that machine." Erend scrubbed a hand over his head. "I couldn't lose you, too."

She stood very near to him now. "Will you show me?"

Erend moved toward Aloy, scattering his bowl and stone mug. "Show you? Aloy, by light and shadow do you know what you're asking?"

He looked at her hard, didn't speak again, then pulled her into his arms. Of course, she fit perfectly against him. The golden fire of her hair under his chin. Strong, capable arms were sliding around his waist. She smelled of good leather, sunlight, and woman. Erend buried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent. "Aloy, you don't know what you do to me. I would never hurt you..."

"Unless you two lovebirds plan on fighting those glinthawks in the dark I suggest you find some cover." One of his men called out then retreated back to his bedroll.

It was that moment of flirtation and interruption by one of Erend's lieutenants that brought them to this night high above Meridian floating in a sea of stars and shimmering candlelight, noses touching and a heartbeat away from a kiss.

~o0o~

The final steps toward home sent Darcia into a dark alley. Usually well lit, tonight the torches lay gutted and smoking on the stones. Odd. The darkness stopped her feet. This was silly, she thought. How many times had she walked this way? Eager to examine the spoon and enjoy her small meal Darcia plunged into the shadows. Only a child would be frightened. She wasn't a child. She was a grown woman with a business of her own and a family to support. The dank air chilled and the rank smell of latrines clung to the dust. Darcia quickened her step.

To distract herself, Darcia allowed a favorite daydream to play out in her mind. Someday she might hold a child in her arms. Her child. There would be a father, of course. That meant a husband. She didn't want a husband. They hurt the people they loved and drank the money away. No, he would give her a child and then die in battle. Perfect.

Deep in thought, Darcia felt her shoe hit something solid. A loose brick tripped her, and she fell forward arms flailing to stop herself from falling. But there was nothing to grab onto, and so she kept on falling.

Hands reached for her, caught her and pushed her against the stones. The movement knocked the breath from her body. With her fingers and her feet she scratched and kicked at her assailants. They stank of blood and dung. Was it Dall from the butcher's shop? They didn't speak just lifted her to the edge of a discarded table. One of them held her arms while the other pushed her skirts over her knees. The thin cotton ripped easily in their coarse hands.

The night air touched her skin followed by the sound of fabric. They grunted like pigs. They stuffed a filthy piece of linen in her mouth and squeezed her breast hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She wouldn't cry. What good would it do? Even if she screamed no one would come to her aid.

Hands on her thighs. The sound of grunting and laughter. Darcia closed her eyes. If she struggled, it would only hurt more. They could only hurt her body, not her heart. It will be over soon. Close your eyes. Darcia went limp and tried not to cry.

The air and the night sound changed. The wet thunk of a knife entering flesh. A man's scream. The sound of footsteps echoing away through the stone corridors.

"Get your hands off me. I won't let you touch me!" She went for his eyes, but her new assailant jerked his head back before she could scratch him. She felt something heavy, like cloth, in her hands and dragged it away.

"Sun and stars, you are a wild one. I would have you be still."

Darcia didn't hear him, so she continued to struggle. Then she felt herself lifted off the ground and pressed against a wall again. She fought with the last of her strength. He probably wouldn't kill her, she rationalized. But if she continued to fight he might genuinely injure her, and she could not afford a healer.

"I will not hurt you. I only..."

He grunted when Darcia's knee connected with his groin. He released her immediately and sank against the same table where they held her down only moments ago. As he fell the remainder of his priest raiment slid from his head.

Darcia gasped.

Blue eyes and black hair. So black the starlight reflected blue streaks in the starlight.

"Why do you walk alone?" He grunted in his pain.

"I always walk this way," she snapped and yanked her clothes together. "The torches are out tonight. Thank you, but I didn't need your help. I can take care of myself."

Wary of his movement, Darcia watched him pull himself up. Tall. He was tall and not more than a handful of years older than her. She supposed he was handsome. Any maid would think so. But he was sun priest, and she had no use for them. And they had no use for the fairer sex, or so the rumors went.

"That was evident by the way your skirts above your knees and your legs open to the sky."

Her palm landed on his cheek before she could stop herself. "How dare you?"

He caught her hand and spoke. His words clipped, "I dare nothing child. I ask only for you to be more careful. Come into the light. Ah, I know you. You are the daughter of the village...?"

"He's a drunk, no sense trying to cover it in honey."

"Then, is there no one who watches out for you? I will walk you to your door and tomorrow come to the temple at daybreak and ask for Brother Solan."

With her hands on her hips, she pulled indignation from her fear. She noticed how he threaded her hand through his and just like a noble he escorted her through the shadows. At her doorway he paused.

"Is your father inside?"

"Most likely. But he's drinking himself to sleep by now."

The sun priest glanced around. "I feel you're not safe. There's been enough violence for one night. Will you walk with me, child?"

"I am not a child," Darcia snapped feeling more herself again.

"I'm aware you're not a child, Darcia of the night. But I must keep to my place."

"Keep to your place? What do you mean...I don't need anyone. I'll thank you for your help back there, but good night." She felt her anger rising and the fear she kept hidden churned her emotions until tears prickled her eyes. Heat burned her skin and turned her hands and feet to ice.

"Good night, child."

The sun priest vanished into the shadows. Darcia slammed opened the door and stopped at the sight of her father sprawled on the floor his dirty pants stained with urine and his mouth hanging open. His snoring filled the room with his sour breath. He sounded like a pig.

Darcia found her pallet without a candle. Tears fell unheeded as she pressed her hand to her cheek where the sun priest left a cool and soothing touch behind.


End file.
